My Peeps

You're a shoe-in for being a friend of mine if:

1. You arrive at my house with the margarita mix, because you know that I've already got the Tequila ready.
2. You wear your yoga pants because they're comfortable, NOT because you've been exercising all day.
3. You've got a secret stash of chocolate that you wouldn't even share with your dying grandmother.
4. You've got the pizza place on speed dial. Mmmmmmmm, pizza.
5. You've laughed so hard that you've pissed your pants (it doesn't count if you're over age 50, as this might be a frequent process)
6. You're not afraid to admit you have a scorching case of hemmorroids, a strange rash, or funky discharge...hey, I'm a former nurse. I love these stories!
7. You cry once a week because you hate being a stay-at-home mom, but wouldn't change it for anything in the world...I know what most of you are thinking...WTF?! But don't worry, I getcha, girl!
8. You know what "WTF" means. :)
9. Your butt is bigger than mine. Loving you!
10. You only get to bathe once or twice a week, but you've learned to live with the smell. You're cool with me!
11. And last, but certainly not least, you know you're a shoe-in for my friend if...well, see #1!!

You're Hired!!

So I've decided to come up with some new titles for myself, since "stay-at-home mom" is so stigmatized. Not to mention the fact that it tells you nothing about what I do all day! It'll perk up the old resume too, when I'm ready to go back to the outside world. So here they are...let me know what you think!

1) Dietary Coordinator

2) Creativity Director

3) Public Relations Ambassador

4) Manager of Domestic Operations

5) Gastrointestinal specialist

6) Director of Health Administration

7) Dean of Developmental Progress

8) Sibling relations liason

9) Life Coach

10) CEO of Martin, Inc.

11) President of Custodial Services and Waste Management

and last but not least...

12) Queen of the Martin Estate

Random thought

Don't you just love it when someone else (meaning your kids or maybe even your husband) takes a huge dump in the toilet and it clogs the damn thing up? And you know no one else is going to volunteer to plunge it. Of course not...that's in my job description, right?! So while I'm furiously plunging away at the giant turd, the sickening brown water splashes into my eyes and onto my face. Nice. I frantically wash my face and hands (with steel wool and bleach!!!!) and yet I still am unable to eat with my hands that night at dinner. Gag! Boy, I can't wait to do this all over again tomorrow!

Twilight Zone, part 2

My kids and I just finished watching the Twilight Zone episode where the old lady gets a phone call from her dead husband. Pretty scary one. Later, I called my own husband at work and told him to call the house and pretend to be a ghost, on the phone. I wanted to scare the pants off of my kids. He said "Cat, they're four!" "I know!" I said, "They'll be really scared!" "You're sick, Cat" he replied. "Just do it!" I said, and I hung up. Ten minutes later, the phone rings. Brrrrrring. "Abby, it's for you" I say, handing my daughter the phone. The voice on the phone says "Helllllloooooooooo............thiiiiiiiiiiiis..............iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissss..........a...ghoooooost...."

And Abby says, "Hi Daddy! We played in the swimming pool today." I grabbed the phone away from her and said "Man, you're lame!" Some people just have it and some don't. So I hung up the phone and quickly turned around and screamed "BOO!!!" They ran away screaming.
Mission accomplished.

Cue the eery music!

My twins are only 4 years old, but they're so smart that I sometimes find myself treating them like equals. This, I know, is a big mistake. But it just happens! For example, yesterday I was in the mood to watch some of my old Twilight Zone DVD's. After viewing the creepy episode with "Talky Tina", the murderous doll, Ian and Abby were hooked! They begged for more. Groovy! Now we could all sit around on the couch all day, eating junk food, and watching the Twilight Zone. It's my favorite thing to do in the summer! But ocassionally there was an episode that went over their heads and they would say, "Find a scary one Mama!"

And I'd say, "That one was scary!"

"No it wasn't!! Where's the ghost?!" they'd reply.

"Well, there may not be a ghost, but it's still creepy!" I say.

"No it's not!" they say.

Me: "Yes, it is!"

Abby: "No, it's not!"

Me: "Yes, it is! Look at that girl - she's kinda creepy." "She just popped up in the woods, outta freakin' nowhere!" "That's definitely weird!" "Come on!!"

Abby: "Uh, uh, Mama - she's just pretty."

Me: "She's weird"

Abby: "pretty"

Me: "weird!"

Abby: "pretty!!"

Me: "weird!!"

Abby: "pretty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Then suddenly I snap out of it and realize that I've been arguing, with a 4 year old, about a show she has no business even watching! Oh well, we had fun. But consider yourself warned: if you see my little angel out and about and she starts quoting, "Hi, I'm Talky Tina, and I'm gonna kill you..." don't be afraid. She's just having fun. Our brand of bizarre fun, of course...but trust me, I think she'll be O.K.!

Lookin' Good?

I have so much I'd love to write about lately, but unfortunately, I can't always write about what I want to write about because it involves other, more sensitive people. Some things are best left unsaid, right? As soon as I choose to write about other people, it'll bite me in the ass. I'm too smart for that. But damn, I have so much material to make you laugh! It's killing me! Anyway, I'll stick to what I know best: me.

I recently went swimming at my sister's new pool. We all had a really great time and for the first time in my life I felt safe from criticism. Afterall, I was there with my own family, who never judges me on superficial things. For example, what I look like in a bathing suit! First of all, we all have the same pastey white legs and freckles. And secondly, they've seen my body for 34 years and there's nothing there that would surprise them. So I felt safe. So I bounced out in my new suit, white thighs jiggling and cellulite proudly displayed. My kids and I had a wonderful time swimming. But the very next day, my grandma called my mom's house and proceeded to give her sideline comments on how everyone looked in their bathing suits. Oh lord, I didn't know I was being watched! Did she have a camera, too? I forgot to look. Shit! I probably would have sucked in a little more or perhaps worn a very large bag over my body, if I had known I was being critiqued! Anyway, the official judgement was as follows: my mom apparently looked "best" in her suit, no comments were made about my sister (she managed to stay out of the radar somehow...lucky bitch), my 4-year old daughter's suit was "too small", and I need a "much bigger suit". I still don't know exactly what that means, but it sent my wheels a'turnin'! I know my breasts weren't falling out. That's impossible! I've never felt so self-conscious before in my life! Just when I was feeling content with myself, my own grandma said I look like hell. Crap. So, I went straight home, put on my suit, and stared into the mirror. Suddenly I started to notice even more cellulite and more stretch marks, and more spider veins. I was repulsed! How did I not notice this before? Oh well, it only took me 34 years to gain some self-confidence. What's another 34 years, right? So I was faced with one choice: start exercising like a mad woman or decide to just love what I have. The choice was clear to me. I work hard enough to raise my three children, keep up our household and take care of my husband. I'm gonna go eat a pint of cookies and cream ice cream!!!!

If today were my last day: I'd be glad that I ate the damn ice cream.

Carpe Diem

So my husband recently had a death in the family and it was such a young girl. These types of incidences always cause me to sit back and think about what's truly important in life. We're always encourage by elderly people and those who are dying, to enjoy each day that we have. "Carpe Diem" and all that stuff. But then we find ourselves getting caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and we forget to sit back and enjoy what might possibly be our last day on earth. The truth is, we NEVER really do know when it'll be our last day! Jer's cousin had no idea it would be her last day. How sad. So, in an attempt to "seize the moment", I'm going to end each blog with a "blurb" about my day and how I would feel if it were my last one. My own "last lecture", so to speak. (Althought I don't intend on going anywhere anytime soon!) I can't promise that my sick sense of humor won't taint the whole idea, but it still might help me to think about it for a while. I urge you to do the same...enjoy your day!
And here's todays thoughts:
If today where my last day on earth, I'd be glad that I let the kids trash the house because they seem to be having a really great time. My family would come in to help my husband and think that I was a terrible housewife, but I would know that I spent all afternoon laughing with my kids! I would probably wish that I had shaved my legs today, but that'll just have to wait...I'm busy playing!

Havin' a Ball!

The kids were getting cabin fever and needed to release some energy. So I emptied off the 10x10 concrete slab we have in our backyard, hoping they could ride in tiny little circles, on their tricycles. This way I don't actually have to get off of my ass and chase them down the neighborhood streets, while they ride off into the sunset! So Abby hopped on her hog and gave it a whirl. "Does it work?" I asked. "Yup" she replied, to me. A few seconds later, after I had walked away, I heard her say to Ian, "Hey, let's pretend this is actually fun!" Sassy girl.

Happy Anniversary!

Every year, my hubby and I take an anniversary picture and put it in a special book. It's filled with some great memories. This year we went to the top of Enchanted Rock and took some fantastic pictures. Several days later, I was anxious to download them and print one out for our book. I hooked the camera up to the computer and realized that there were no images on it! My husband came home and I told him our pictures were gone. And then here's how our argument proceeded:
Jer: "What did you do?"
Me: "Nothing!"
Jer: "You had to do something with them...just step away from the computer because you and it don't get along well!" (which is actually true...I'm having a hell of a time just typing up this blog!)
Me: "Well maybe it's just a shitty computer." (effective insult because he built the computer)
Jer: "It's not the computer."
Me: "And the camera's software is ridiculous too!" "It sucks!"
Jer: "Face it, you lost the pictures...what did you do?"
Me: "Nothing!!" (total lie) "Maybe it'd be easier to get things done right if this study weren't a complete shithole!" (it really is a shithole)
Jer: "I'll try to find the pics, just go away." (notice I don't put exclamation points after his comments...he never raises his voice to me...it's so annoying!!)
Me: "I'm going to bed!!!!" (I was so tired at that point. It really is exhausting, trying to defend yourself when you're a total idiot!)

P.S. Yes, the pictures are forever gone. Oh well.

Crazy Mama

My eldest son has been "testing his limits" and pushing all of my buttons lately. So much so that he's got me questioning my own sanity! I'll have a particularly rough day and then end it by sitting on the floor of my closet, reading the Serafim pamphlet that my OB gave me, over and over again, trying to decide if the little pink pills will make me sane again, or if I'll just be an overly medicated mom with the same problems I had before. (Serafim, by the way, is a mild antidepressant, sometimes used for PMDD) And each time I read the pamphlet, I ask myself "why didn't I want to take these pills?" And then I get to the list of side effects. It's not the weightgain, the nausea, vomiting, irrritability, headaches, blurred vision, and potential for suicide that bother me. It's the "loss of sexual desire and/or function" that gets my goat. My libido is already at a pathetic level, but to suppress it even more would definitely be grounds for Jeremy's divorce! If I were the Department of Homeland Security, my libido would be on Code Red...high likelihood for disaster. So I'm hundled in the closet, thinking it over... Sanity or sex, sanity or sex, sanity or sex...hmmmm. Then I remember my wedding vows. Damn it! I think I remember the priest saying something about my hubby being "numero uno". (Although probably not in those exact words.) I draw the conclusion that I have to skip the pills in order to be the "sex-kitten" that God wants me to be, for my husband. Sanity will have to take a back seat, for now. So what will probably happen is I'll have great sex with my husband for the next few years, meanwhile screwing up my kids with my bizarre and insane behavior, thus saving my marriage. And then, just after my screwed-up kids finally leave the house for college, Jer will leave me for a younger woman. But at least that will open the door for me to FINALLY get to take my little pink pills! Viva Fluoxetine!

T.P. fiasco

My four-year-old daughter has a little problem with excessive use of toilet paper. We always know when she's been in the bathroom, taking a dump, because she leaves a clogged up toilet full of paper, and t.p. all over the floor and sink. It's a huge mess. But she does do a thorough job of cleaning her tush. Hey, she has her priorities! Anyway, the other day I went in and saw a miracle....I yelled "Abby, did you just go into the bathroom?" Since she was worried that she was in trouble, she replied "uh, no." I then said "It's ok baby, but can you come here, please?" She came into the bathroom and I pointed to the toilet paper roll and asked "Did you put that new roll of paper on the holder?" And she said (in her sassy little voice) "Well, I ran out of paper, so I put a new one on the holder...duh!" Good girl. Those have been my exact thoughts for quite some time : "Duh!!" Now why can't men figure that one out?!

My Little Ballerina

Sorry I haven't written in a really long time, but a trojan horse snuck up on my ass and my computer has been on the fritz ever since. And even though my hubby has three other computers, I still have to fight him for computer time! Anyway, I have so much to say!! Where do I start? I've been thinking it's time I include some of my sappy stories, so that those of you who are under the impression that I only complain about my kids will realize that I also love them very much. And I just so happen to have a good one to tell: This past week we were getting ready for my daughters first dance recital. Her rehearsal was on Thursday night. The flyer that had all of the info on it said "be there at 6:45 pm" and that's it. It said nothing about whether it was a dress rehearsal or not. I assumed that since the dancers are four years old, they'd schmootz up their costumes if they wore them the day before the recital and therefore it must NOT be a dress rehearsal. I was wrong. We got there and Abby saw everyone else in their costumes and she proceeded to cry. This, of course, broke my heart. It was the first (of what will probably be many to come) time when I embarrassed her. Damn. I apologized profusely and shoved her onto the stage. She was cool about it and did the dance without flinching. Very smooth little girl. That night, when I was tucking her in, she reminded me that I screwed up. "You forgot my costume, Mommy!" And I said, "I'm sooooo sorry, baby." "Maybe this is the best time to teach you a very important lesson...Mommy is not perfect either and I'm going to make lots of mistakes. But I'm very sorry about it." And then my daughter took my face in her hands and said "oh, but Mommy, you are perfect!" Needless to say, I balled my eyes out. It brings tears to my eyes even now. She's such a wonderful little girl and I'm so lucky to have her!